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Page 26 text:
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20 The Augusta Seminary Annual. and was surprised to see the girl shake her head even while look- ing longingly at the coin. I cannot take it ! I not belong here. I am Pabla, who lives far away by the Rio, with her grand- mother, she explained. Seeing that she had made a mistake in thinking Pabla the keeper of the old place, Bessie still pressed the coin upon her, and, won from her natural northern coldness to something of southern impulsiveness by the wondrous dark eyes uplifted to hers, she drew forth one of her cards and, writing her address upon it and handing it to the girl, said, You must come and see me, Pabla. Bessie then hastened away, carrying with her the memory of a pair of wistful dark eyes and a soft, sweet smile. Pabla lingered at the door watching her move down the. street until she was lost in the changing throng ; then, with a shy, half -ashamed motion, she lifted the small piece of pasteboard to her lips. Never, she thought, had she met any one so kind. Darkness warned Pabla that night was fast approaching and she must hasten home. She left the Alamo, reluctantly at first, then moving more swiftly until she scarce seemed to touch the ground. The lights and bustle of the city were soon far behind her and she reached a small Mexican hut down on the river ' s bank. Outside, on the ground, a fire was burning brightly, and around it were grouped the figures of several men who were con- versing in low tones. As Pabla saw them she muttered to her- self, That Juan has come home again, and she tried to slip un- seen into the house, but a voice warned her that the attempt was useless. Pabla! Pabla! the voice called, and reluctantly she moved forward to where, waiting for the coffee to boil, were three swarthy, dark-eyed men. Sitting in a low ])ine chair, close up against the wall of tlie hut, was a queer, witliered old woman, whose face was one mass of wrinkles, out of which gleamed a pair of deep-set eyes that seemed to move about as if never at rest. The old woman looked eagei ' ly at Pabla, who hastened to her side. The men seemed glad to see her, and ajjpeared to care greatly for hei ' , but Pabla answered none of their questions, and, sli] ping down beside the quiet figure of the old woman, put into her haiul the coin Bessie had given her. The longing look she had cast upon it before was now explained, for the old woman seemed overjoyed and no less happy than Pabla herself. What avenues of luxury that small coin opened to them I It seemed wealth untold.
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Page 25 text:
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The Augusta Seminary Annual. 19 Pabla. IN the heart of the City of Missions, San Antonio, stands the battle-scarred Alamo. Its grey stone walls are defaced by time, but to all lovers of the ancient it bears a wonderful charm, while to the Texan it stands a monument in memory of the brave men whose lives were lost in its defense. It was here that the defenders of Texas liberty saw, floating from the old cathedral, the red flag and then the black one that told them how little mercy they might expect from the cruel comiriander of the enemy. The sun was setting, bathing the Alamo in a lurid light that seemed more fully to remind men of the scenes of horror and bloodshed that had been enacted within its walls. Standing in the door of the building was the small figure of a girl who seemed to have reached that point of life where, with shaded eyes, the maid looks forward timidly into the dim future of her dawning womanhood. Drawn around her head and shoulders was a dark red shawl, which hung in careless, graceful folds to where two small sandaled feet peeped out, proclaiming her to be of the ple- bian class. Her hands were clasped over her head and her dark eyes gazed dreamily out upon the moving, changing throng of people. She did not seem to be heeding them, and, when she was addressed in broken Spanish by a young girl who had just entered, Pabla was startled, but, with a native grace, moved aside, making a queer little curtesy. The young girl had evidently taken her to be the person in charge of the place and wished to be guided through it. Hardly understanding her words, Pabla gazed at her wonderingly, and then, in a puzzled tone, asked, in very good English, but with the slightest foreign accent, what she could do for her. The girl explained, and, as Pabla led her into the queer old building, she listened with rapt attention to the story of its siege and fall. Twilight was fading into night when Bessie McLeod stepped out of the mission into the street. She had been so engrossed in listening to the many old legends woven around it and so in- terested in the little narrator that time had passed unheeded. She handed a small piece of silver to Pabla in payment for her services,
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Page 27 text:
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The Augusta Seminary Annual. 21 The men continued tlieir conversation, wliile tlie old woman nodded in her chair, muttering to herself in her sleep, and ] ahla hy her side, in the gleam of the tlrelic ht, was trying to spell out the words on the card she held in her hand. Suddenly her atten- tion was called to the men. Juan was talking in excited tones, and she caught the words, La Americana del Xorte. Could they he talking about the fair, young girl who had just a few hours before described to her the beautiful home in the far north where the ground M ' as covered all winter long with a wonderful white sheet of snow ( They had lowered their voices, but she strained her ears to catch the words, becoming more and more convinced that Bessie was the subject of their conversation and that another of Juan s rather shady deeds was about to transpire. There was little in their words to prove to her that her conjecture was true, but some instinct seemed to tell her so. She listened. They were planning a robbery. The victims were to be a fair, young American and her invalid mother, who had come to spend the winter in a cottage on Flores Street. Midnight, the hour when evil, always shunning the bright light of day, walks abroad, was the time. Pabla listened no longer. Her mind was busy devising some way to thwart their design. One plan after another passed through her mind only to be dismissed for fear of impli- cating Juan, who, in his rough way, had been kind to her, and, although he deserved arrest, she felt that she could not in any way aid in bringing him to justice. Suddenly a thought came to her. Juan was very superstitious, and she might frighten him by per- sonating a ghost. The old grandmother, sitting back in her chair, was fast asleep. Housing her, Pabla helped her into the house ; and, taking her over to where a solitary candle sputtered and flickered before a tiny image of the Virgin, she handed her the card and told her to read it for her. The old woman was frightened and half asleep, but, with a muttered prayer and making the sign of the cross to ward off some imagined evil, she read the address. The next morning, gathered around the same fire, were the three men, Pabla and her gi-andmother. They were eating their breakfast. Juan wore a half -frightened look, and every now and then glanced backward as though some danger were lurking near. The men were talking, while Pabla, silent and eagerly listening,
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